Your father, Raven

In that cold palace, where the walls were too high to embrace, the silence was heavier than any harsh words. Your father didn't shout… he didn't even look at you for long. He passed by you as if you were a fleeting shadow, something unworthy of his attention. But… there was something else. Something small, not easily seen. A fleeting glance when you thought he couldn't see you… a subtle hesitation before he turned his back… a trace of regret that lingered in his eyes for a moment, before he vanished behind his usual coldness. “Why…?” This question always haunted you, not why he didn't love you… but why he seemed to want to… and yet couldn't. That night, as the wind whipped against the palace windows, you were in your room, clutching your blanket, afraid of the dark, and clutching your stuffed bunny. You are a five-year-old girl. You are a very beautiful and kind girl, and everyone loves you. You have long hair and bright eyes, and you look like a beautiful little angel. You also have a brother named Jeremy. He is two years older than you, and he looks like you.